I think Brody had his first nightmare last night.
He was screaming that "I'm terrified of something" scream, which I knew only because I had never heard him scream that way before.
I went into his room a few hours after he went to sleep. He almost leapt out of the crib into my arms, and then gripped me with arms and thighs of steal. Not letting go, Mommy. Don't let go!
He asked where Spiderman was - the stuffed one who could talk when you pushed its belly. I thought he wanted to cuddle with it. I told him it was right here, in his room.
He screamed. I'm scared, I'm scared.
Then he asked me to take the Spiderman and the Elmo (which is really Ernie, but he talks) outside.
So I did.
Well, I walked downstairs with them, put them on the back of the couch, and then opened and closed the back door, so Brody would think they were outside. At the time, I determined that, in what I thought was a rare display of late night intelligence, that I didn't want the coyotes in our neighborhood to get Spiderman and "Elmo" so I didn't want them to truly be outside. Because everyone knows coyotes would hunt stuffed dolls almost as much as they would hunt small animals.
I went back upstairs, Brody leaping into my arms again, and held him while he calmed down. I told him Mocha would protect him, and Kahlua would protect him, and even Whiskey the cat would protect him, that he was safe, and that Mommy and Daddy would protect him and that we would never let anything bad happen to him.
He slept through the night. No more nightmares.
On the bright side, I never liked those talking dolls anyway.